War on the HOA
by Ki Ken Tai Ichi
Summary: Sanji has just moved into the prestigious gated community "Grand Line". Unfortunately for him, the neighborhood is run by the Home Owners Association -HOA- and their president is his next-door neighbor. Fortunately -or maybe unfortunately- his other neighbor provides a welcome distraction for the President simply by being his normal, moss-head self. AU.
1. Clever opening line

**Disclaimer:** I don't own One Piece (obviously) or the photo used (no as obviously)

 **A/N:** I know Sanji's official name has been revealed, but I felt like keeping it with the common fan-name "Black". I'll probably change it accordingly with future works, but for now it's "Sanji Black". Also, despite the photo, Zoro will have both eyes in this fic.

* * *

Sanji was jarred awake by the incessant blaring of his landline. Muttering under his breath, he rolled out of bed and trudged to his living room, where the phone sat. He coughed -clearing his throat- picked up the phone, and tried to prevent his voice from betraying his exhaustion.

"Hello?"

"Hello Mr. Black. This is Mr. Spandam of the Grand Line Home Owners Association. Is this a bad time?"

Sanji cast a weary eye to the analog clock that sat on his mantel. 6:36 AM. Normally he'd be up by now, but considering it was Sunday –his only day off- he usually slept in until 8:00. He ran a tongue over his dry mouth and forced his sleepy brain to form a coherent response.

"No, no. It's fine Mr. Spandam. I was up anyways. What did you call about?"

"I'm calling to ask if you've received a letter this past week, regarding your hedges." Spandam said, as if he were trying to reign his temper.

Sanji, confused by the tone, searched his mind. He glanced over to the coffee table and saw an opened envelope. Beside it, a typed letter with an official signature and seal at the bottom. Sanji grabbed the paper and scanned the words.

 _Mr. Black…hedges beneath your ground floor windows….too tall…trimmed immediately…fined….Sincerely, President of the Home Owners Association, Mr. Spandam_

It was coming back to him with each word he read. Sanji had returned home a few days ago after work. Dead on his feet, like every night, he had read but forgotten about the letter. Setting the paper down, he rubbed the back of his neck and tried to respond appropriately.

"Yeah, I got it. Sorry Mr. Spandam, I've just been busy and-"

"I understand, but all the same I'd rather you come to the Clubhouse today at 7 to discuss this situation."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to take the time out of your day. I can just trim them right now." Sanji offered. Wasting time in a meeting with anyone from the Home Owners Association was far from how he wanted to spend his day off.

"No, no. I insist. After all, you're new to the neighborhood. It'd be best to smooth over any other confusions between us." Sanji could swear the man was goading him, but without facial expressions it was hard to be sure.

"Right," Sanji exhaled in defeat.

"Perfect, see you soon."

The phone clicked and Sanji hung up the phone in defeat. Running a hair through his bedraggled hair, he headed to the bathroom to shower and start his day.

Sanji had moved into the Grand Line neighborhood just barely over a week ago. It was a fairly new neighborhood, prided on its safe surroundings and quiet atmosphere. While a bit further away from his restaurant than his old apartment, Sanji had decided it was time to move into a house. And since he intended on marrying and starting a family sometime in the near future –hopefully within the decade- he decided to purchase a home before the houses became too high in demand and thus unobtainable.

However, neighborhoods as premier as this one came with rules and the people who enforced these rules: the Home Owners Association. And the President of this association was Spandam, a man who Sanji had the displeasure of meeting once before –before he'd officially moved in.

Spandam was a tall man who seemed shorter due to an ever present slouch. His coarse lavender hair –Sanji believes the odd color to be the result from an incorrect attempt to dye his grey hairs- seemed to constantly be in need of a wash and his bulbous nose did nothing to enhance his looks.

Sanji, however, would be able to look past all that if the man possessed any other positive traits. But unfortunately Sanji hadn't noticed any in their short time speaking with each other. The man was snide, condescending, and rather egotistical. He also had a grading voice that seemed to be set at just the right pitch to grate unpleasantly inside Sanji's inner ear.

And the worst thing about the man, was that he was Sanji's neighbor. He was the very reason Sanji had taken to leaving the house before 7 on work days; he didn't want to chance a run in with the guy.

But now it seemed like he couldn't avoid the man forever. Sanji pulled his car into a parking space near the Clubhouse and entered after tucking the old letter into his jacket's inner pocket. The Clubhouse was a communal building beside the neighborhood pool. Inside was a small kitchen, an office, some bathrooms, and a living room with couches and a TV. It could be rented for parties, though Sanji hardly saw the point as most houses in the neighborhood had living rooms twice as big as the one in the Clubhouse. Plus the kitchen wasn't well suited to cooking; it seemed to be designed more for holding the catered food until it was ready to be served. Perhaps the appeal was that the guests wouldn't be making a mess in your own home?

Sanji poked his head into the office located to the left of the door but found it empty. He thought for a moment and headed for the living room, a bit surprised to find Spandam spread languidly on the couch as if he were trying to take up as much space as possible while still sitting. Sanji nearly laughed at the sight, but remembered this man held actual power with Sanji's mortgage and property rights, so he withheld even a smirk.

"I thought we were meeting in the office." Sanji offered to start the conversation, as he sat down on the couch opposite to Spandam.

"We were, but I decided that since I was coming in I called in another homeowner I've been meaning to talk to. I thought this space would better accommodate us all."

Sanji raised his visible eyebrow in surprise. "I thought this was just supposed to be meeting between us?"

"It was, but I might as well knock out two birds with one stone. Besides," Spandam smiled a thin toothy grin. "It'd do you some good to see what kind of degenerate you'd become if you allow such misconduct to continue."

"Misconduct? Mr. Spandam I assure you I've simply been too busy and forgot about the shi- erm the hedges. I'm off today, so-"

"So I'm not holding you up, that's good." Spandam said, his grinning stretching even wider. Sanji was debating if Spandam was trying to be amicable with that grin or actively trying to piss him off when the smile slid off Spandam's face and he glanced at his watch.

"He's late." Spandam growled and pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket. Sanji tried not to be too awkward as Spandam dialed a number, waited, and promptly snapped.

"This is the 4th and last time I am calling you. If you are not at the Grand Line clubhouse in less than 2 minutes, you will be removed from this neighborhood." He hung up the phone and stuffed it back into his pocket.

Sanji tried not to stare back at the man in shock. He'd never heard Spandam use any tone remotely similar to aggressive. Weaseling, yes. Sugar-coated, yes. Passive-aggressive, most definitely. But open hostility was something new. And yet. Even when speaking in such an antagonistic tone, Sanji could tell Spandam wasn't confident. He wasn't unafraid of whoever he'd just called. Rather he was terrified, and simply used his position as a shield. Just when Sanji had thought the President of the HOA couldn't get any worse, he'd displayed Sanji's most absolutely hated trait –spineless.

Just then the door to the Clubhouse slammed open. Located behind and to the left of Sanji, he couldn't immediately see who entered. But he certainly heard him. The door slammed shut and heavy, booted footsteps marched across the linoleum floor towards the couches. Sanji glanced out of the corner of his eye and caught a glimpse of black jacket, sweat pants, tan skin, and… green hair? The hell?


	2. Spandam's Other Neighbor

**A/N:** Yeah...I know it's short. But I rather keep it short and decent rather than long and boring. Also, I don't have anyone reading over these things, so feel free to let me know if there are any spelling/grammatical errors. Furthermore, I'm not sure if it's my complete ineptitude with computers, but this formatting system on really sucks confuses me. If anyone feels like telling me how to add paragraph spaces that'd be great. Otherwise I'll just add these line breaks for each paragraph...Aright, as promised, Spandam vs Zoro. Round 1!

* * *

The man collapsed on the armchair to Sanji's left and then Sanji understood Spandam's spread out posture. It was a poor attempt to intimidate this other guy, who was naturally bigger than the thin president. His tall, broad body easily commanded a presence without him even trying. If only Spandam could notice a lost cause when it stared him dead in the face.

The recently arrived man regarded Spandam with half-opened, grey eyes and a thin frown. While clearly upset about being here, the guy looked more exhausted than anything else. A heavy silence filled the room until the newcomer yawned –openly and without reservation- and spoke.

"What the hell do you want, Spandam?" His voice, even when weighed by fatigue, seemed to be naturally low. And the tone hovered somewhere between being annoyed and attempting to provoke.

Sanji was unsurprised to see Spandam match the question with a sneer. "Mr. Roronoa, so glad you could finally join us."

"Shut up and get to the point. I'm tired." Roronoa snapped, his eyelids even lower than before.

"Yes, this is in regards to your recyclables." Spandam began, glancing at a notepad on the couch beside him.

"What about them?" Roronoa growled, slouching into his seat.

"You're using an unregulated receptacle. And according to the Waste Disposal chapter of the-"

"I'm using the right receptacle." Roronoa interrupted. "I'm just using a second bin too." He concluded with another deep yawn.

"Precisely. Now you see-"

"What's the problem exactly? You told me not to keep empty bottles on my lawn. You tell me to put my bottles in the recycling bin instead of the trash. Now you're telling me not to use the recycling bin?" Roronoa replied, his eyes slightly more open and fixed on Spandam with a level glare.

"It's the wrong bin!" Spandam shouted.

"I fucking know that!" Roronoa roared back, easily doubling Spandam's previous volume with half the effort. He settled back and his voice lowered to a hiss. "I filed the damn paperwork for a new recycling bin, but was refused because the first one wasn't technically damaged. Just what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"How about you drink less booze. Then you wouldn't need so many bins." Spandam sneered.

"Fuck you, I can drink however much I want." Roronoa replied, obviously angered by the very suggestion. "How about you pick up recycling more than once every other week?"

"Once every other week is enough for everyone else, Mr. Roronoa. I don't see why we should bother having an extra pick up because you have a problem with alcohol."

"It's not a problem!" Roronoa protested. "And even if it was, do you see me affecting anyone else in the neighborhood?" Roronoa turned to Sanji, who was casually trying to keep out of the conversation. "You there, blondie, you ever had a problem with my drinking?"

While indignant to being called blondie, Sanji caught the pleading glance behind Roronoa's aggressive front. "Well, I don't even know-" Sanji tried to explain.

"See?" Roronoa said to Spandam. "The guy doesn't know me. If I was causing a problem for anyone he'd being saying yeah that's the shitty bastard who dot-dot-dot. But he didn't. So I'm not. So you can mind your own fucking business." He suddenly got to his feet and headed for the door.

Sanji, meanwhile, wondered how this utter stranger knew exactly what Sanji would have said if he did know him?

"Mr. Roronoa, we still haven't settled-"

"I'll take my fucking recyclables to the dump myself." Roronoa declared, without turning around. He exited the Clubhouse, leaving the room with a gaping hole where the belligerence and noise had occupied.

Spandam sat back and rubbed his temples in a circle. "You see, Mr. Black. I simply want you to understand the rules in this neighborhood before you turn into someone like him."

"You don't have to worry about that, Mr. Spandam." Sanji replied as amiably as he could. While this Roronoa guy seemed to be blowing things out of proportion, Sanji did admit that the suggestion of limiting his alcohol seemed a little extreme. Sanji imagined it'd be akin to limiting his smoking to a pack a day. While doable, he'd still be pretty pissed about someone telling him what to do.

Spandam exhaled with seemingly great relief. "Thank God, because I really don't think I could handle having two neighbors like him."

"He's your other neighbor?" Sanji clarified. That would explain how Spandam knew about Roronoa's drinking habits.

Spandam nodded gravely, though he probably didn't intend it to look so melodramatic. "I'm afraid so. That man is a demon out of hell. To be honest, I was worried Mr. Roronoa's attitude was some kind of generation-wide epidemic, and since you both are so close in age I thought you'd be like him.

"I doubt it, Mr. Spandam. Some people are just inconsiderate no matter what age." Sanji agreed, hoping he could leave this meeting all the sooner if he played along.

Spandam smiled at Sanji, seemingly believing his tone. "Excellent. Now you said you would deal with the hedges today? I think two inches off would put them back to regulation height."

Sanji wondered how anal this guy really was if only a couple inches of plant growth was worthy of a formal letter. "Right, I'll take care of it today. Promise."

"Good, then this meeting is over and I hope you have a pleasant Sunday, Mr. Black." Spandam extended his hand and Sanji internally shuddered, remembering his last handshake with Spandam. Steeling himself, Sanji grasped the hand and withheld a grimace as he gave the moist, clammy hand a firm shake.

Waving over his shoulder, Sanji left the Clubhouse and headed for his car.


	3. Word of Advice

Sanji was just about to head for his garage –to put his shears away- when he heard a voice behind him.

"Still look a bit tall to me."

Recognizing the deep voice from that morning, Sanji turned around and saw Roronoa standing on the sidewalk in front of his lawn, hands deep in his sweat pants pockets. It had been nearly 4 hours since the meeting that morning, and yet the bastard still looked dead on his feet. But despite his slouched posture and tired disposition, his eyes were steady, clear, and focused on the hedges beneath Sanji's front windows.

"Fuck you, they're fine." Sanji retorted, venting his residual anger from that morning on the man.

"I was right, you do have a mouth on you." Roronoa smirked. "But seriously, if you don't want to start trouble with Spandam, you should probably lob another centimeter or two off the top."

"A centimeter won't make a difference." Sanji snapped and headed for his garage.

"He measures my grass every day." Roronoa said as a reply. "So I wouldn't put it past him to measure your hedge."

"Like hell he will. It's my property."

Roronoa's smirk grew even more crooked. "You'll find that Spandam doesn't really think that way."

At that point, Sanji realized that Roronoa, while following his movement towards the garage, had remained on the curb and off his lawn.

"Maybe he's only after you because you cause so much trouble." Sanji grumbled, setting his shears on a shelf and exiting the garage. He pulled the door shut behind him, nearly missing Roronoa's low chuckle.

"Just trying to give you fair warning blondie."

"Oi, Moss-head. Don't call me blondie."

"Ooh, Moss-head? Haven't heard that yet. Tell me, you a comedian Curlicue?"

"Curlicue?"

Roronoa gestured to his own right eyebrow and grinned toothily. Sanji snarled, trying to thick of a new comeback but struggled to find something stranger than the guy's mossy hair. Tall, so can't make fun of height. Not fat either, nor was he bean-pole thin. Time to take the high road.

"Look, unlike some unmannered degenerates, I don't have time to be standing around all day trading childish insults. So if you'll excuse me, I'll be going."

"Hah, always thought that phrase was funny. And by the way, you're not."

"Excuse me?" Sanji threatened

"If you'll excuse me, no I don't excuse you. We're not done talking yet."

"What's there to talk about, idiot?"

Roronoa pulled his hands from his pockets and ostentatiously ticked off his answers. "Your still incorrect hedge height, the fact that you can't come up with an insult about me, your name-"

"Oi, we weren't talking about names." Sanji protested.

"Well we are now. I'm Zoro Roronoa. And you." The man –Zoro- greeted with the most shit-eating grin Sanji had ever seen since his own.

"Sanji Black." Sanji answered, believing this type of person to be too stubborn to ignore and possessing enough patience to hold out for the long run.

"Well then, welcome to the neighborhood." Zoro said, and walked away with a low chuckle that reminded Sanji of a laugh some Saturday morning cartoon villain would utter. Sanji's eyes followed Zoro down the sidewalk and back into the man's house two doors down. Once he was out of sight, Sanji removed a yardstick from his garage and measured his hedge. And it the shitty bastard was right. A whole centimeter off.

* * *

 **A/N:** Yeah, I know this piece is particularly short, especially since I upload the last chapter, what, four days ago? (I honestly can't remember). But I promise to upload the next chapter tomorrow alright? Cross my heart and everything.


	4. Nosey Neighbors and Lawn Maintenance

Sanji grumbled underneath his breath as he painted the railing of his porch, cursing how eggshell white was close fucking enough to pure white. After another week of exhausting work at the restaurant and how was he spending his one day off? Painting his shitty deck railing another shitty shade of white to avoid getting a shitty fine.

Sanji dipped his brush into the can and inched his squat over to the next rail. His language was drowned, suddenly, by the low –but loud- rumble of a lawn mower. Sanji glanced to his right and saw Zoro using a push mower on his lawn. Sanji couldn't help but furrow his brows at the sight, as it had been some time since he'd seen a push mower. It also reminded him that he'd neglected to purchase his own lawn mower as of yet, since he'd been living in an apartment for so long and wasn't in the habit of lawn upkeep.

"Quite a sight, isn't he?"

The sudden voice sent Sanji reeling backwards onto the lawn and he shot his gaze up to his immediate right to see who had spoken. His eyes fell on an older woman –perhaps in her late 40's- wearing a floral shift dress that, instead of hiding her weight, somehow exemplified it. Choosing to ignore her previous words in favor of properly introducing himself, Sanji got to his feet, brushed off his pants, and smiled warmly at the woman.

"Hello ma'am, I'm sorry to ask but I'm afraid I don't know your name."

"Oh my, that's right. We haven't seen each other…well, you haven't seen me at least." The woman replied with a smile and knowing wink of her dark brown eyes. Her words and actions sent a slight tremor of unease down Sanji's spine, but he retained his friendly exterior. After all, despite any outward differences, a lady is a lady and should be treated as such.

"I'm Mrs. Bethany Spandam," she introduced, holding out her hand.

Sanji clasped her hand in a gentle grip and shook, pleased to note her hand –while warm- wasn't as slimy as her husband's.

"I'm sorry it's taken this long for us to meet." Sanji concluded the handshake.

"Oh don't worry about it, I see how busy you are."

There is was again, that same uncomfortable twinge. Why was that? Was it what she said? Or more how she said it…and the toothy grin that accompanied such words.

As Sanji pondered what could've caused such an odd sensation, he caught the woman casting another glance over to Zoro, who had briefly stopped his mowing to dump the grass clippings from the bag into an empty garbage can. Sanji just realized the man was shirtless, and that might've been what was drawing her stare.

"Say, you're normal aren't you Mr. Black?" Mrs. Spandam suddenly asked, her eyes still on Zoro.

Sanji wasn't quite sure how to respond to such a vague and –ironically- strange question. "I guess," he replied. "It depends in what area."

"You like women right?"

Sanji would've choked if there had been something in his mouth. "Yes," he felt no obligation to offer any more information. While this was a rude question and deserved an equally rude answer, this was a lady and the worst Sanji could do was be curt.

Mrs. Spandam gave a pleased hum. "That's good. Eye-candy is nice, but it's good to know there's a real man around." She said, touching her manicured hand to Sanji's upper arm and delicately dragged her fingertips to Sanji's wrist. It had happened before Sanji could fully register her actions and react.

"You should probably mow your lawn soon. Wouldn't want it growing too high." She called as she sauntered over to her own yard. With one last lingering look at her tanner, green-haired neighbor, Mrs. Spandam entered the house.

Sanji was rooted in place, his mind reeling like it just withstood a cyclone within his skull. First, Spandam's wife just came onto him. Second, was she implying Zoro was gay? If he was that didn't necessarily bother Sanji –after all, less competition- but was this an actual fact or a purposeful slur against their neighbor? Though Sanji doubted a lady could purposefully do such a thing; if it was an unfounded accusation, it likely came from Spandam. Speaking of Spandam…Third, Spandam's wife just came onto him. Fourth, now he has to mow his shitty lawn before he gets fined by his nosey neighbor. Speaking of his nosey neighbor…Fifth, Spandam's wife just came onto him.

"Oi, Eyebrow!"

The insult snapped Sanji out of his trance, and he refocused his gaze and realized he'd been staring straight ahead, more or less into Zoro's yard. In fact Zoro was now standing still, leaning against his mower, staring at Sanji.

"You spacing out or you need something from me?"

"Uh, yeah actually." Sanji stepped forward, crossed Spandam's lawn and stopped a few feet into Zoro's yard. Sanji bit back his own insult, deciding not to offend someone he was going to be asking a favor of.

Zoro narrowed his grey eyes in consideration and spoke before Sanji got the chance. "You seem off….did Bethany just hit on you?"

"Wha- that's none of your business!"

Zoro laughed deeply. "Oh man, you look so cornered, like she's gonna pounce on you while your back is turned. It's hilarious!"

Sanji almost snapped back a comment on the man's apparent homosexuality, but decided it would be in poor taste. "At least people are interested. Must've been eons since someone's hit on an ugly bastard like you." Sanji replied coolly, pulling a cigarette from his packet.

"Standards must be pretty low if you think getting hit on by Bethany is a point in your favor." Zoro quickly shot back.

Sanji lit the cigarette and breathed in, using this brief reverie as an opportunity to shape and hone his comeback. "Insulting an innocent woman just to preserve your own fragile masculinity? Such poor taste."

"Tch, even if she were a gorgeous young woman it's still not an accomplishment for you. She hits on everyone, newbie." Zoro snickered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What, so she's serious?" Sanji blurted out, momentarily forgetting about one-upping his neighbor.

Zoro's smirk grew even more lopsided. "Of course she is. I would know. She's been trying to sleep with me for the past two years."

"You can't be serious. You?"

"I know, I'm just as shocked as you. You'd think the hair would be a turn off alone for such an older woman, but apparently not. Unfortunately my attitude doesn't deter her either."

"Two years…so…does that mean…are you homosexual?"

Zoro laughed, this time more like a short, sarcastic chuckle. "Is that her excuse? Just because I'm not interested in her automatically means I must be uninterested in all women." Zoro's grin slipped away and his eyes narrowed threateningly. "Or is that what you're saying?"

"No, no, that's what she implied." Sanji said casually after exhaling after a particularly deep drag. Feeling the conversation die away, Sanji awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and thought back to why he was bothering to talk to Zoro.

"So hey, um, it's been a while since I've lived in a house with a proper lawn. So, I don't have a lawnmower. You think I could borrow yours?"

Zoro raised an eyebrow, as though puzzled by his phrasing or his tone of voice. "Sure," he grinned. "It's the least I can do to thank you for moving in."

"Thank me?"

"Yeah, with you to spy on maybe Bethany will finally leave me alone."

"S-spy?"

"Yeah," Zoro clasped a hand on Sanji's shoulder, his once jovial face the picture of seriousness. "Be careful, she has binoculars." Then the hand was gone and the smirk was back. "I'm done with this for the day, so you can go ahead a take it. Good luck!" He called over his shoulder and entered his house.

And despite being told very clearly what was going on, Sanji still –somehow- felt out of the loop.

* * *

 **A/N** : Okay, couple things.

1\. Bethany is technically OC. I was going to put a OP character but I couldn't think of any unattractive, un-likeable women. Like Kokoro wasn't much of a looker, but she was pretty nice so I didn't want to cast a bad light on her. Same for Lola. I thought about Alvida, but she's mostly seen Post-Devil Fruit consumption so I wasn't sure if that was right either. So yeah, Bethany is OC. If your name happens to be Bethany, I mean no offense. I just needed an older sounding name.

2\. Let me know if you'd want any subplot with this. Most of these stories will be small one-shots that are vaguely connected. No real plot other than Sanji kind of becoming friends/bros with Zoro, and Sanji and company hating on Spandam. Though if I did add anything to this "Bethany wants to bone Sanji" subplot, it'd be comedic, not serious.

3\. Next update will probably be sometime this weekend. This AU universe will be expanding a bit. Horahorahora.


	5. Shades of Beige

**A/N** : Guess who forgot it was Valetine's Day until 2 pm today? So yeah. Nothing romantic today, unfortunately, but as a 'thanks for giving a shit about my writing' to everyone following or showing mild interest in this fic, I put the finishing touches on this chapter today rather than tomorrow (like the procrastinator I am). Hope it amuses you!

* * *

Next week, Sanji was cleaning his living room while watching the morning news. When his doorbell rang, his pleasantly slow morning was quickly shattered as he wondered as to the identity of his visitor. It was too early for it to be Usopp and Robin, as they were invited to come over for dinner not brunch. And other than them, he wasn't expecting anyone today. For a brief instant, as he was heading for the door, his panicked mind frantically suggested it was Mrs. Spandam, i.e. the reason he'd taken up the habit of keeping his bedroom and bathroom curtains closed at all times. His worry downshifted considerably when he opened the door to reveal a young woman with bright pink hair, heavy mascara, and a black and white sundress.

"Hiya," she greeted. "I'm Perona, I live a few doors down," she said, gesturing lazily to the left of Sanji's house, towards where Spandam and Zoro lived. "I need some help with painting and I was wondering if you were busy."

Even with half his house left to clean and dinner to prepare, Sanji grinned amiably at the woman and shook his head.

"Of course not. Nothing would make me happier than to help. My name is Sanji, by the way." He said, stepping onto the porch and shutting the door behind him.

"That's great, thanks!" Perona replied, heading down the porch as she spoke. She led Sanji towards her house –a narrow, two story home with a wrap-around porch and carefully maintained flowerbed- which was, incidentally, on the other side of Zoro's home.

"So, what do you need help painting?" Sanji asked.

"My house." Perona said, bringing a couple cans of paint off the porch and onto the lawn.

"What part?" From what he could tell, the house was just as immaculate as the lawn. No chipped paint or weather worn areas. It looked amazing, even if the beige didn't quite fit the homeowner's personality.

"All of it." She replied with a shrug, as if it were an obvious request.

Sanji balked a bit at the challenge. An entire house, just by himself? (Since he didn't expect Perona to help, nor would he allow it.) And even when his own list of chores ran through his mind, Sanji found it all too easy to agree when the woman regarded him a wide-eyed, pleading look. How could he say no to such a nice, young lady?

"Alright then," Sanji knelt down and started shaking the cans to stir the paint. When she saw this, Perona grinned and headed for the garage. She returned in moments with paint rollers, trays, and can openers. Sanji popped open one of the cans and found himself surprised at the color inside, though in retrospect he should have expected as much.

"This is a lovely color," Sanji complimented, pouring the bright pink paint into the tray.

"Isn't it?" Perona giggled and gestured to the house. "I figured that if this color wasn't acceptable, then I might as well pick something I like."

"Wasn't acceptable?" Sanji asked, and shot another glance at the house. Nope. Still beige. "What's wrong with that color?"

"Oh, I got a letter last week from Spandam, telling me that my house was 'an offensive shade of beige'. So I checked the rules to see what **would** be an acceptable shade when I noticed pink wasn't listed as a prohibited color." She grinned crookedly. "So I decided to follow Spandam's suggestion and repaint my house!"

Sanji smiled pleasantly to Perona and coated his roller with the viscous, pink liquid. "I'm sure Spandam will be more than pleased to know you'll be adhering to the house color prerequisites."

Perona giggled appreciatively. It was a unique laugh that seemed to include one too many vowels, but it was far from unpleasant. Sanji allowed it replay in his mind like a soundtrack as he began the herculean task placed before him. His mind was free to wander as his body was occupied with this monotonous activity, and like usual it roamed towards recipes. In this particular instant, the recipes in mind had to do with what he was making for dinner tonight _. Perhaps a nice fish roast_ , Sanji considered. I _t's a nice, light summer meal. I could broil it in a lemon base, and it'll compliment my new white wine very well. Ah but what to serve with it? A vegetable side dish, or something bread based?_

Sanji's deep musings carried him through the next few hours, and in no time his thoughts were interrupted by a boisterous greeting.

"Sanji! I made you something for lunch if you want to take a break!" Perona called from the porch.

Sanji was immediately snapped out of his thought at her voice, and a bright, honest smile stretched across his face. It had indeed been a **long** time since someone made something for him to eat. In fact, he had trouble remembering such an occasion as any house party he attended, he either brought something or helped with prep –even if he wasn't asked. So he eagerly accepted the offer and sat down on the porch steps with Perona to share the sandwiches. Unfamiliar with the look of the sandwich, Sanji took a tentative bit and quickly identified the basil, mozzarella cheese, and lettuce. With a bit more consideration for the flavor, he recognized the tarragon and chives. It was on the third bite that he remembered what the tomatoes were – green zebra tomatoes. It had been some time since he'd used that species of tomato and was pleased at the unexpected change.

"Good?" Perona asked.

"Very,"

"Thanks, I can't cook much, but I like making different sandwiches." Just then she looked to the right and past Sanji's shoulder. Her grin grew and she left to her feet, running a few steps down her lawn. "Zoro!" Perona greeted with a smiling cheer. "You're up early!"

Sanji glanced at his watch. 12:05.

"Hm," Zoro grunted, approaching Perona with at a slow trudge with both hands deep in his sweatpants pockets. "Your house woke me up."

Perona beamed. "Isn't it great?"

"Fantastic," Zoro sighed, heading over to the paint cans. "I'm guessing you want it all done today?"

"Yep!"

"What color you want your shutters?" He asked after a yawn. "White?"

"No, keep them black. If you have time, could you add a coat of gloss?"

Zoro yawned again but continued with the motions of paint prep. "Sure," he mumbled, coating his roller with a layer of violently pink paint.

"You're the best!" Perona said, heading back towards the porch.

"Mhm," Zoro acknowledged, starting to paint the house with half closed eyes.

"I know you probably have stuff to do today." Perona said, once she reached Sanji. "So you can go after eating, if you want."

"Alright, and thanks for the food."

Perona went back into the house and after finishing the sandwich in his hands, Sanji picked up a paint can, roller, and tray and went to the other side of the house. He painted for another 4 hours before calling it quits and heading home to prepare for dinner.

* * *

 **A/N** : Funny enough, I didn't plan on Zoro making an appearance until I suddenly had this idea of him saying "your house woke me up". And I'm (admittedly) a Zoro fan, so I just had to put him in.

The "offensive shade of beige" is a real complaint from the HOA that I found online (reddit). When I saw it, I considered having Zoro paint his house green. But I felt like Zoro wouldn't give a shit enough to do that. Then a reader (Ashlielle) suggested that Perona be in the story and paint her house pink. And thus, the creativity juices replaced the blood in my veins and I wrote (whether or not these juices lead to anything good, that's up to you). So, couple questions:

1\. Would you rather a chapter about Sanji having dinner with Robin and Usopp (honestly, it may take a bit longer to write a chapter with them because I am unused to writing for Usopp and Robin and don't have a lot of ideas off the top of my head) **or** a chapter with Sanji running into Bethany, maybe at the community pool (this may take less time to write, but I still may not finish until mid-week)

2\. Any suggestions for characters you want to see or complaints? I have a couple in mind already, but hey random inspiration from a comment/suggestion could spark something.

...wow that was a long note...


	6. Awkward Pool Times

There were –admittedly- several nice things about living in a community with an HOA. One, these communities accepted a certain socio-economic class that kept the area relatively safe and crime free. Two, the HOA gathered and supervised funding of community amenities like a playground, clubhouse, pool, and tennis court. And now, with a relatively free Sunday, Sanji decided to finally take advantages of these amenities.

The gates to the pool opened at 10 am Sunday morning, and Sanji greeted the first lifeguard –a young lady with light blonde hair in twin braids- with a smile and basic pleasantries. The lifeguard –Connis- replied in kind, though her coworker –an older man with a Mohawk and tribal tattoos- didn't seem so happy to see him. Or rather, he wasn't happy to see _anybody_ , so early in the morning.

Sanji selected a lounge chair in the far corner of the pool, out of the way of any other early morning visitors, and gave his back a good stretch before plunging into the chilly pool water. Before the chill could seize up his muscles, Sanji went right to work, starting with an easy 100 meters of breaststroke. After a light breather, he started his laps of freestyle and forced himself to keep going until 250 meters. He stood in the 5 foot end, heaving gasps of air and mentally berating himself. Not that he'd ever been a fantastic swimmer, Sanji still considered himself a healthy person and felt like 10 laps shouldn't wear him out as much as it did.

Once his lungs no longer felt constricted, Sanji launched into another set and rest after an additional 10 laps. After that, it only took 100 meters of butterfly for him to hang on the pool edge in defeat. He always forgot how exhausting that stroke was until he was halfway through one lap, but refused to stop after only one lap. Especially since that cute blonde, Connis, was on watch. Despite his already sore muscles and erratic heart, Sanji forced himself to complete two more 250 meter sets of freestyle and 100 meters of breaststroke as a cool down.

His arms feeling like rubber, Sanji pulled himself out of the pool and trudged to his nearby lounge chair. He yanked the towel off the furniture and proceeded to dry his hair as best as he could manage. Once it was no longer dripping, he examined his blonde locks, frowning at the slight green tinge the chlorine had caused. Barely an hour in the pool and it was already being affected. Just great. At least it wasn't enough to completely stain his hair. He stood, laid the towel on the lounge chair, and lied down with a content sigh. Using his crossed arms as a pillow, he practically melted underneath the powerful rays from the bright sun. Now this was how he was meant to spend a day off.

"Hey there blondie~"

Sanji couldn't fully repress the shudder than ran down his spine. That nickname had never sat well with him, but hearing it without the barest sliver of sarcasm, in a tone that oozed pleasure and **want** was overwhelming in the worst of ways. Especially considering that he recognized the voice's owner.

Fixed on a deep mental battle of whether or not to ignore the woman he could hear approaching, Sanji failed to come up with a decision by the time thick, yet delicate, fingers grazed across his triceps.

"Mhm, don't know why you hide such a nice body under all those suits of yours." Bethany hummed as she sat down on the lounge chair beside Sanji while he attempted to figure out how exactly to respond to her words, actions, and overall presence.

"Something wrong, Sanji?" He could practically see the pout on her lips with the tone of voice she was using.

With a grimace towards his own polite tendencies, Sanji sat up and turned towards Bethany but his reply was temporarily halted when he saw the woman's bikini, which was much too small considering someone of her age and not the right cut for someone of her body type. Bethany smirked and Sanji balked at what he thought she was assuming he was staring at.

"Hello Mrs. Spandam," Sanji greeted, keeping his eyes fixed on the lounge chairs over her shoulder so she wouldn't get the wrong idea.

"Oh, what's with the _Mrs_? You're making me feel old, calling me that." She smiled.

"Forgive me, it's just how I show respect to women." Sanji replied, foregoing the fact that he typically used such a title for older, **off-limits** women.

"Well, please, call me Bethany."

"Right," Sanji nodded, wishing desperately that he could smoke on the pool deck. Anything to give his suddenly dry mouth something to be busy with.

"It's nice I ran into you. I was worried there wouldn't be anyone here so early in the day." Bethany continued as she slipped off her sandals.

"Yeah well, I didn't have much to do so…thought I could swim some laps…" Sanji mournfully realized that now he'd have to pick a different time of the day to swim if these early hours were a habit of Bethany's.

"Mhm," Bethany nodded. "Do you think you could help me with my sunscreen?" Bethany asked with a coy grin.

The moral dilemma, while present, didn't last long. It was a reasonable request, since they were at a pool, and it would be incredibly rude to say no. How would he even approach such an answer? _No. Why not? Well I don't want to touch you_. What kind of piece of shit would say that to a woman?

"Sure," Sanji acquiesced and accepted the bottle of sunscreen. He squeezed some onto his hands while Bethany rolled onto her stomach, propping her head up by crossing her arms underneath her chin.

She flinched at the touch of the cold lotion, but relaxed half a second later. She nearly purred with pleasure as Sanji spread the lotion and smoothed it into her skin. "Mhm, you're just the sweetest thing. I wouldn't even need a spoonful of sugar to swallow you."

Sanji bit his tongue and quickly finished the task. He sat back on his own chair as Bethany rolled back over and finished coating her arms, upper chest, stomach, and legs in what Sanji noticed to be a slower than necessary pace.

"Do you need me to get you?" Bethany asked, holding up the sunscreen.

"Uh, no thank you. I'll be leaving soon anyway." Sanji replied, though it **had** been his original plan to stay another hour at least to get some color on his pale skin.

"Oh, what a shame. Where you running off to?" Bethany set down the sunscreen and winked. "Hot date?"

"No, nothing like that." Sanji couldn't find it in him to lie. "I just have some work to do around the house. I'm so busy during the week that everything just sort of piles up."

"Well let me know if you ever need a maid. My days are wide open." The way she emphasized wide open made Sanji's innards squirm. He already had a notoriously imaginative mind (as his friends and coworker were so kind as to remind him) and he didn't need any help from his **married** neighbor.

"Thanks, but I'm afraid I couldn't put you out like that." Too late he realized the poor wording of his reply.

"Oh, I don't mind putting out." Bethany replied, gently biting on her lower lip with suggestion.

 _Yeah, I gift wrapped her that one_. Sanji huffed to himself. "Well, it was nice seeing you. I have to be going now." Sanji said as he stood up. He gathered his few items and made for the exit at the fastest pace he could manage without physically running. After all, however repulsed, a gentleman was always a gentlemen…that and it'd be awfully embarrassing if that tattooed lifeguard yelled at him for running.

* * *

 **A/N** : This was posted much later than I had intended, but I was just not in the mood to write this week. You see, I have this horribly unfortunate habit of starting projects and being really into them, but then quickly losing interest and shifting focus to a new, shiny project. I really didn't want that to happen to this, especially since I just started it. So, put on some Aerosmith and cranked this out in an hour (so there may be a few hiccups in spelling. Please let me know if you see anything).

Full disclosure, I got Bethany's "don't need spoonful of sugar to swallow you" line from online. I'm afraid I ain't that creative. I DID, however, come up with the "putting out" pun much like how it came up in the story, in that I only realized the potential until after I wrote Sanji saying it.

True fact: blonde hair does in fact turn green from chlorine. The lighter the hair, the more noticeable the green. I have many summers of first hand experience to support this.


	7. Victory by Heavy Metal

**A/N:**...Hi guys...been a long time huh? Almost a month since I've updated this...yeah...

So, no excuse other than I got busy and didn't feel like sitting down and writing. To make up for the long wait I made this thing one long chapter instead of two little ones. I've also tried to nudge Zoro and Sanji a bit towards friends rather than neighbors, but the real bonding comes later. This just ensures that the upcoming broness doesn't come out of nowhere. And with that, enjoy!

* * *

With Labor Day weekend, the restaurant last night had been **packed** causing Sanji to arrive home in the wee hours of 2 am. The fact that their full house coincided with a lull in wait staff (having lost just over half of their waiters in the course of two weeks) lead to Sanji having to fill the roles of both sous chef AND waiter, making everything five times more frantic and irritating than normal. So he felt completely justified Sunday morning when he glanced at his bedside clock to read 11:56 am.

However, he didn't exactly have the time to lie in bed all day. After a week of solidly avoiding his neighbors, made easy by the hectic schedule that came with the end of summer, his to-do list once again displayed a horrid backlog of duties, most of which pertained to basic yard upkeep. Oh the joys that came with owning a lawn.

Though that didn't mean he had to attack these jobs with any particular vigor. So Sanji took his sweet time getting up, making breakfast, and actually taking time to savor his food rather than eat as he was rushing out the door. He'd almost forgotten how _good_ food actually was and allowed his thoughts to drift peacefully for another 30 minutes before forcing himself up and out of the house.

He headed to his garage and took his shears off their shelf. After trimming his front hedges, he headed to his backyard to attack his –admittedly- overgrown bushes when he noticed movement in his neighbor's yard. He casually glanced up to see Spandam stomp across his backyard, not towards Sanji's yard but to Zoro's. He suspected it had something to do with the white bed sheets flapping in the breeze, though he had a hard time expressing _why_ that would be a reason for Spandam to look so pissed off.

"Roronoa, what do you think you're doing?" Spandam snapped, loud enough for Sanji to clearly hear every word from across two lawns.

Zoro's head appeared from behind the white sheet with a quirked eyebrow and puzzled stare. "I think I'm hanging my laundry out, but I suppose I could be mistaken. What do you think I'm doing?"

Spandam curled his lip with disdain. "I've told you not to hang your laundry outside. We're a high class residential area, not some _trailer park_."

"I'm not sure why you're under this impression that I'm so delusional. I'm well aware of where I live, Spandam; I just like the way air-dried sheets smell. Besides, be happy that I had the foresight to do this today instead of tomorrow during your little party."

The crooked smile that stretched across Spandam's face seemed to express some sort of believed superiority. "Hmph, that's awfully _considerate_ of you Roronoa." He crossed his arms and like magic his douche-ness increased tenfold. "But don't think that means you're welcome to my barbeque."

"Oh dear how will I ever go on." Zoro replied with a remarkably excessive eye roll. "Believe me, there are plenty of other things I'd rather do. Gouging out my own eyes with sporks taking spot 1739 on such a list, just above attending your prestigious Labor Day Barbeque." Zoro stepped away from his laundry and gave a lazy, sarcastic salute farewell. "Later Spandam."

Zoro disappeared into his house and Spandam turned away with a snarled curse under his breath. As he looked up, Sanji tried to duck behind the nearest bush, but unfortunately not quick enough to avoid his neighbor's dark, weasely eyes.

"Mr. Black!" Spandam called amicably, forcing Sanji to step into view.

"Hello Mr. Spandam." Sanji greeted, his fingers nervously twitching as Spandam approached. Nervously, in the sense that being in discomforting situations with unlikeable people make his hands restless not in that this diminutive HOA president actually made him fearful.

Unless said president got word of what his wife had been saying to Sanji as of late. In that sense then he was indeed a touch anxious as to what the president could do to him. Goodbye house.

"I was wondering if you had any plans tomorrow, for Labor Day?" Spandam asked once he was a feet away from Sanji.

"Plans? Not really. I've got the day off, so I was-"

"Perfect, you should stop by my barbeque tomorrow. It starts at noon, don't feel obligated to bring anything though, since it's rather last minute and all."

"Oh, it's no trouble." Sanji immediately replied, more out of habit than any desire to provide food to Spandam's party.

"Well if you insist." Spandam grinned. "See you tomorrow then."

"Uh, yeah, see you." Sanji said, and turned to head back into his house. Just after opening his door though, he turned around at the sound of hissing pressure. After a few seconds of delay, the pressure was revealed to be the sound of sprinklers turning on. Spandam's sprinklers. Which had enough reach to soak Zoro's laundry.

As curious as Sanji was to see the resulting fireworks, he felt as if he'd done enough eavesdropping for one day and headed inside. Besides, if he changed his mind about listening in Sanji was sure he'd be able to hear the shouting from inside.

* * *

The next day Sanji slept in until 10 am and casually putted around his house for awhile –a little unsure of what to do with a second day off since he'd accomplished all his chores yesterday. At 11:00 he began preparation for his summer salad and was entering Spandam's backyard by 12:05. Sanji set his salad bowel on a table spread with other various dishes –potato salad, macaroni, hotdogs, etc- and felt a sudden prickle on the back of his neck that was definitely not elicited from any end of summer breeze.

"Hm, and what have you brought for us to feast on _mister chef_?" Bethany breathed beside his ear.

"Um, it's just a light summer salad." Sanji said, turning around and side stepping away. He couldn't keep himself from casting a quick scan of the backyard to make sure Spandam wasn't around. Not that he'd act any differently, but he really couldn't afford to be a part of any misconceptions.

"Easy there, you look like you're about to have a heart attack." Bethany giggled. "Don't tell me you've got a weak constitution." She murmured after a step closer.

Sanji was close to saying yes, if only for her to leave him alone, when someone's hand clamped down on his shoulder from behind. "Glad to see you made it Mr. Black." He heard Spandam say. What was it with these people and sneaking up from behind? Had they no sense of personal space?

Sanji stepped to the side, once again, but it wasn't enough to lose Spandam's grip on his shoulder, which –to his dismay- was clammy enough to be felt through his cotton shirt.

"Come on, I want to introduce you to some other people in the neighborhood, since you're still rather new and all.

"Oh you don't have to. It's al-"

Spandam seemed to have tuned him out and proceeded to steer Sanji around the lawn, introducing him to countless people –all of whom were at least twice his age- whose names and faces seemed to blend together after the first five. After maybe twenty introductions, Spandam finally released Sanji to attend to the grill. Sanji, still reeling from the information overload, stood rooted in one spot without even taking in his surroundings until his daze was interrupted with a low chuckle. Sanji turned to his left to see Zoro, lounging contently in a lawn chair with a beer in hand and a broad smirk that was so close to being smug that Sanji wanted to kick the look off his face.

"Havin' fun?" Zoro goaded.

"The time of my life." Sanji replied with a thin frown.

"Relax Curlicue,"

"Name's Sanji, Moss-head."

"-I'm not laughing at _you_." Zoro continued as if Sanji hadn't interrupted and reached into a cooler on his far right. "Beer?" He offered, holding a bottle out to Sanji.

"Sure," Sanji shrugged, accepting both the bottle and the opener.

"I'd offer you a seat," Zoro continued, "But I only have one chair and don't feel like standing."

"Pft, whatever asshole." Sanji muttered, tossing the bottle opener back at Zoro so it hit him in the side of his head.

Zoro scowled but it slipped away to a neutral frown after a few seconds. "Hey, what kind of music do you like?" Zoro suddenly asked.

"Music? Not trying to make me a mixed tape, are you?"

"Of course, to commemorate all five collective hours we've known each other." He paused to gulp down half of his bottle. "Just answer, idiot."

"Insults, great way converse with someone, moron."

"Answer."

"Fine, uh I mostly listen to stuff without lyrics. Orchestral pieces, sometimes big band swing or jazz, uhm, but I don't dislike rock and roll or some pop stuff."

"What about metal?"

"Metal?" Sanji questioned, eyeing Zoro from the side. He certainly didn't seem like the metal type. With the green hair he seemed more punk than anything, though he guessed it was completely believable considering the guy's poor personality traits and general anger issues.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna call myself an expert on the genre, but it's pretty loud right? Not exactly something you'd play at parties or old folk homes, right?"

Sanji shrugged as his answer, unsure as to what this guy was going on about. Though as he thought about it. Zoro's anger issues. Parties and old folk's homes. Spandam turning on his sprinklers yesterday. Oh.

"You can't be serious?"

"I am. The guy soaked my sheets yesterday for no reason other than hanging laundry out makes this neighborhood look poor. Well fuck him."

"Yeah, it was a dick move, but are you sure?"

"I'm not hurting anyone." Zoro replied with a defensive shrug. "I was _going_ to turn on his sprinklers, but that would've ruined the food and I didn't want to do that. So, I'm just going to turn on some music for my own enjoyment. I'm allowed that right?"

Sanji covered up his laugh with an exasperated sigh. The metal image of Spandam contending with the loud guitar riffs and coarse screams of metal during his –rather tame- barbeque was something he had no idea he'd wanted so badly to see until it was supplanted into his mind. "Not afraid of a noise complaint?"

"Nah, I'm friends with the sheriff."

Sanji raised an eyebrow at that statement, rather incredulous as to how _that_ could've happened, given Zoro's personality.

"Another story." Zoro said with a shrug, after catching Sanji's stare. He downed his beer and got to his feet with a cracking arch of his back. "You'd better head back, before you're guilty by association."

Sanji snickered and raised his beer as a means of farewell before heading back into the lion's den. Not five minutes later, the peaceful –if dull- rumble of conversation was swept away in a tsunami of electric guitars and guttural screams. Thunderous pounding of the drums and a steady –worryingly fast- heartbeat of the bass overtook the shocked crowd. Sanji glanced over to Zoro's lawn to see the perpetrator lounging in his chair, as before, casually bobbing his head along with the beat. And while Sanji was certain he wasn't the only one to notice the shit eating grin stretched across the Moss-head's face –this was evidenced by the bright red color that overtook Spandam's once pallor skin- he did feel a certain satisfaction having recognized the song as one from his high school days, back when things were a bit easier and something like revenge was black and white with no messy grey to blur the simple moralities of youth. Funny how such a shitty song could be so nostalgic.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Here's hoping I didn't lose my touch in my (roughly) month long leave of absence. The next chapter will, if all goes according to plan, be coming within the week. And let me tell ya, it'll be SUPER.


	8. The Great-ish Debate

**A/N** : Ta-da. I'm not dead! Who cares about this bit, on with the show!

* * *

"Owning a lawn is shit and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

It's just too much goddamn work! You have to keep the grass blades of a certain regulated height. You have to have half an inch of space between the grass and the curb. You have to have your grass between these two shades of green. You have to keep your lawn free of these specific _Genus species_ of weeds. You have to keep bushes of a certain height. You can't have too many lawn ornaments. You can't have too many of a certain flower in your garden. Yours trees can't be too tall or spread out to wide. And speaking of fucking trees… you can't have tree limbs piled on your lawn.

Sanji stared at the fine that was scotch taped to his front door with a stiff frown but steadily growing fury. The note seemed to almost mock him, as he couldn't help but read such a flashy script in anything other than the most pretentious voice he could image. A voice that was startlingly close to Spandam's. Sanji yanked the note off his door, cast an eye to the branches piled on the curb, and stormed into his house.

While he desperately, oh so very desperately, wanted to stomp over to Spandam's house and argue against this fine RIGHT FUCKING NOW, he considered knocking at the guy's door at 12:30 am wasn't going to help his case. No, according to the note scribbled on the bottom of the paper, he'd have to attend some stupid upcoming HOA meeting this Friday night if he wanted to argue against this fine.

But in his defense. It wasn't even his fault! Sanji couldn't stop himself from audibly cursing last weekend's hurricane, all previous hurricanes, and any subsequent hurricanes with every foul insult he knew as he got ready for bed. Once in bed, Sanji mentally rehearsed how he was going to manage speaking with Spandam about this fine without insulting the moron's intelligence before passing out after 15 minutes.

* * *

Two days later, and extremely pissed that he was wasting a precious sick day for this, Sanji was sitting in the Grand Line Clubhouse on a metal folding chair amongst a small collection of twenty other residents. The fine, tucked away in his suit jacket, crinkled every time he shifted to get comfortable –an impossible feat in these chairs- and only served to piss him off every time he moved.

 _Alright, just explain that the hurricane knocked the branches off your tree and you put them on the curb for trash collection just like that shitty, no, just like the HOA manual said_. Sanji was so busy going over his lines that he didn't notice the meeting starting until a loud banging startled him from his thoughts. He looked up to the front table –also the kind that can be folded for storage- and saw Spandam sitting at the center of the table holding a gavel. _Really,_ Sanji mentally bemoaned. _This guy uses a fucking gavel? Really? Does he even know how ridiculous that looks?_

"The Home Owners Association open meeting has commenced. First up on the docket are general questions, comments, petitions, and disputes. Are there any who wish to speak on such matters?"

Just as Sanji was gathering breath to answer –the sooner he sorted out this shit the sooner he could leave- a man to his right and up one row jumped to his feet, making a sound somewhere between a shout of pain and a victorious proclamation.

"Yeah, I've somethin' to say." The man declared, his deep voice befitting his large, broad stature. He squeezed between the rows of chairs until he was free from the cluster, and marched to the front of the room. Once he turned around, Sanji was dismayed to see he lacked certain pieces of attire: shoes, closed shirt, and –most befuddling- pants. Granted his blue speedo covered up all his parts, but the tight material left little room for imagination.

 _Why do I feel like half the people in this neighborhood are sexually assaulting me_? Sanji wondered as he averted his eyes with a double face palm.

"Yes, ahem, what is it you're speaking about Mr. Flam?"

"Alright, so I'm here about the blueprints you wanted me to get signed by a licensed engineer." Mr. Flam said, holding up a rolled up paper as if to validate his presence.

"Blueprints?" Spandam questioned, ruffling through past notes. Though his unfocused eyes made it clear he wasn't reading anything, just distracting his eyes from the weirdo's lack of wardrobe.

"Yeah, for that treehouse you wouldn't let me build last month." The man replied with a wide smirk. "Said I couldn't build the thing without an engineer's approval."

"Ah yes, hand them over please."

With a grand flourish, Mr. Flam passed the rolled up paper to Spandam, who unfurled the document cautiously, almost as if he was afraid of what he'd see. Though an expression of relief swept over his face when he saw –what Sanji could only assume to be- proper blueprints. After a half a minute of inspection, Spandam's right brow quirked up and he sneered with both his mouth and –somehow- his eyes.

"Care to explain why _your_ signature is on this document, Mr. Flam?" Spandam asked a nasty grin.

"Well, I _am_ an engineer, Spanda." Mr. Flam proclaimed, striking an awkward pose that involved both arms –side by side- shooting up to his left. "And a SUPER engineer at that! Been on the job for 18 years and not a single miscalculation!"

 _You've gotta be kinding me_. Sanji thought. _This guy can't even dress himself but we let him make **buildings**?_

Spandam seemed to have a similar idea, though Sanji was loathe to even share that much with the guy. Spandam took the doubt a step further, though, and asked to see Mr. Flam's credentials, which were again presented with an extravagant movement. Though were exactly the guys had been hiding his engineer credentials on his scantily clad person, Sanji didn't want to spend any further thought on. This too was examined, and Spandam eventually passed back both documents with a huff. "Fine, fine, your treehouse plans are approved. Now go and sit-"

"Ah, hang on a sec. I promised Zoro-bro I'd give you this." Again, the man produced a paper from his person out of seemingly nowhere. This time he passed the folded paper with little embellishment, as if to try and underplay this exchange as much as a guy like him could.

"Roronoa wrote this?" Spandam questioned skeptically, keeping his arms crossed over his chest rather than accepting the held out paper.

"Yeah, said since he couldn't get out of work –or maybe he said he didn't want to…whatever. Point is, this is his argument against that security system fine you gave him last week."

Spandam stared down his nose at the note and shook his head. "I'm sorry, individuals must make their cases in person if they want to argue a fine."

"Spanda, I really think you should read this. Zoro-bro's real serious."

"Then make his case for him, if it's so important." Spandam replied with a careless wave of his hand.

"Alright then," Mr. Flam unfolded the paper and, after clearing his throat, began. " _Spandam, this security system you're enforcing is complete bullshit. Even if I wanted a security system, I wouldn't want the company owned by your cousin to be doing the setup at double the price it's worth. If I get robbed, it's my business. None of yours. If that's not enough reason to drop the fines, I thought I'd let you know that I know how you were able to afford the new addition to your_ "

"Wait, stop right there!" Spandam roared, yanking the paper from Mr. Flam's large hands.

"You sure? Cuz after that he lists a couple other things, like the Fourth of July Pool Party last year, and something about April this past year and-"

"Shut it, that's enough! Tell Roronoa it's settled for now. Just shut up and take a seat!" Spandam demanded, his face flushed from what Sanji could only guess was shame.

Mr. Flam lowered his sunglasses over his eyes and marched back to his chair with a victorious grin. While the entire exchange had been bizarre, it did give Sanji some hope. After all, if guys like that could get around these shi- these rules, then surely he could. Right?

"Alright," Spandam began. "Anyone else-"

"I'd like to say something." Sanji said, raising his hand high and standing to ensure no oversight or confusion as to who was next.

"Ah, Mr. Black. Do you have something to say?"

"I just said I did." Sanji replied before he could initiate his "dumb-ass with power" filter. While the corner of Spandam's mouth did twitch at Sanji's words, nothing else was shown. Sanji considered this to be a good enough sign and continued.

"Yeah, it's about the fine I got a couple days ago, regarding the discarded tree branches. You see, they were knocked down during the hurricane last weekend and I piled them on the curb, but then I got a fine saying they were on my lawn."

"There was a brief, but very uncomfortable silence, as both men waited for the other to speak. Sanji tried to stand still and not tap his foot or drum his cigarette-less fingers as the silence made his nerves buzz with anxiety. Spandam, however, seemed to be rather bored and with a rather befuddled expression finally prompted with: "and…"

"And? Well **and** why am I getting fined?"

"Mr. Black, as it said on the ticket, you have improper garden foliage on your lawn and-"

"It wasn't on my lawn, it was on my curb, exactly where this HOA manual says to put it." Sanji retorted, his voice wavering dangerously between restrained politeness and uncontained rage.

"Some of it may have been on the curb, but the spillover reached your lawn as well."

"There were a few heartbeats of heavy silence as Sanji took this in. "So, you admit that I put my branches in the right place?"

"Partially," Spandam nodded.

"Partially? It's either yes or no. Did I put my branches in the right place?"

"Some of them were-"

"Look, answer the damn question. Just where the hell else was I supposed to put the shitty branches?" Sanji erupted, which he faintly regretted 0.2 seconds later. _Shit._

"Mr. Black, I'm afraid the fine remains. Take care to properly dispose of your lawn rubbish in the future." Mr. Spandam looked at his papers, signifying that the discussion was over.

With a strangled roar of raw fury, Sanji marched out of the sea of metal chairs and stormed out of the clubhouse, taking care to slam the door as he went.

 _Scratch that_ , he mentally snarled as he lit a cigarette, _being in an HOA is shit._

* * *

 **A/N** : So, I considered putting up a one-shot or something as a "yay, Ki-Ken-Tai-Ichi finally posted, oh wait it's not War on HOA, boooooo" as my weak attempt at APRIL FOOLS!... but since I've been putting off this upload for WAY too long I decided not to do that. Yes, I'm well aware of my chronically poor updating. It's just been busy with my birthday, Kendo grading, back to back to back in course assessments. Plus I've got another Kendo Taikai tomorrow. Real life is quite cumbersome what with it's responsibilities

So, let me know what you thought, especially in regards to Franky (don't worry, I won't call him "Mr. Flam" forever) because I've never written him before and I didn't want to use too many stereotypes for his dialogue and mannerisms. Plus, since he'll be back again, I want to make sure that I got him right/will get him right next time.


	9. Shots Fired

**A/N** : Yeah I know, long break. If you're curious as to why I'll explain at the end. I won't hold your attention any longer though. Just skip ahead to the story.

* * *

As much as Sanji had wanted to stay at home Saturday and stew in his entirely justified misery, there were far too many reasons not to skip out on another day of work: Saturdays were the busiest, he was the sous chef, he couldn't afford to lose a day of pay now that he had to pay some dumb fine, his old man would likely show up on his doorstep and drag him back to work by the ear for skipping twice in a row- just to name a few. And so, Sanji woke up an hour earlier on Saturday morning so he could reach the restaurant with plenty of time to prep what hadn't been done Friday night. As expected, his old man didn't appreciate his absence yesterday and had Sanji more than make up for it by having him come in Sunday to clean the entire kitchen and prep for Monday morning, leading to Sanji dragging his ass back home at o-dark-thirty (sometime between 2 and 3 am). Therefore, it was completely understandable when Sanji awoke to his alarm, blinked, and saw an hour had somehow passed in that brief millisecond.

And while Sanji wasn't by any means late, the restaurant wouldn't open on Mondays until 11am, he was already on thin enough ice with the shitty geezer. So, as if the peg-legged mustachioed devil himself were at his heels, Sanji dressed, ate, and headed out of his house in record time. In fact, he had gotten ready so fast that he had nearly made up for his extra sleep. However, with his car key wedged in his car door lock, Sanji noticed something white moving out of the corner of his eye that made him pause his mad scramble. He brought his gaze up and instantly recognized the substance that lazily fluttered in the morning breeze. Toilet paper. More specifically, toilet paper on Spandam's house.

Sanji failed to withhold a smirk. A quick glance around the street showed that this was a targeted operation, as no other houses bore similar vandalism. And, if Sanji were being completely honest, whoever had done the deed certainly knew what they were doing. The rolls had been expertly wound around the porch railing, tree trunk and branches, and even around the dormers squatting on the rooftop. Several feet of the paper had been left loose on the tree branches so that they could wave to passerby like the proud banner of a castle.

All in all, the sight was the perfect start to what was guaranteed to be a hectic and exhausting day.

Sanji opened his car door and brought his attention to the road at the sound of a low engine. He saw a maroon Ford truck turn down his street and pull into Zoro's driveway. He was a bit surprised to see the green haired man exit the truck dressed in dark blue coveralls and stocky black boots. It looked like a work uniform, so what was he doing coming back home; had he forgotten something?

He watched Zoro slam the truck door shut and trudge up the walkway to his front door. Instead of moving with the haste of someone who was returning for a forgotten object, he moved at the break neck pace of the undead. After finally making it to his front door, Zoro paused, staring at the wood with a focused scowl. He barred his teeth in a snarl and stomped over to Spandam's door, with a noticeably different demeanor and a piece of paper in hand. Though still clearly exhausted, he was alight with a temper so focused he hardly sparred a glance at the toilet paper fluttering around him like some messed up snowfall.

He stalked up Spandam's porch and Sanji –after realizing he'd been standing still for nearly two minutes- was about to sit in his car before a thunderous boom of fist meeting door recaptured his attention. Zoro slammed his fist on the front door again, with enough vigor to make it quake in its frame. After a second's pause, Zoro hit the door again and this time the door swung open, though not from breaking. Spandam stood before the irate Moss-head with wide, fearful eyes but a thin lipped frown forced on his jaw. Zoro held the paper up and forced Spandam to look him in the eye.

"Just what the hell is this?" Zoro seethed. The only reason Sanji was able to catch the low threat was because he _might_ have been focusing every iota of his attention on what was shaping up to be an actual fist fight.

"A fine, Roronoa, and summons for restoration."

"For what?" Zoro snapped.

A shudder ran through Spandam's body at the shout, but he remained standing. After a deep breath in and out, Spandam squared his shoulders and gestured to his house and lawn. "For this. You've vandalized my home and now you've got to clean this up and pay a fine. Just be lucky I'm letting you stay in this neighborhood."

Zoro stepped back and took in his surroundings. His eyebrows rose in surprise but he didn't smile. In fact, his scowl quickly recovered and he seemed even angrier than before.

"What the fuck makes you think I did this? I've been at _work_ the past 9 hours. You know that!"

"Tch, well then who else could have done it?"

"You're seriously accusing me without any ground for proof?!" Zoro shouted, crumbling the paper in a trembling fist. Sanji could tell from the slight shift in the man's stance and shoulders, that Zoro was about to punch Spandam. The idea of such a sight ensured his shameless eavesdropping, and -to be perfectly honest- it was quite a disappointment to see that, instead of swinging a punch at the HOA president's face, Zoro turned on his heel and marched across the street.

Sanji followed his movements and saw Zoro approach the house directly across from Spandam's. Without so much as knocking on the door, Zoro entered the house. In about 30 seconds, he reemerged dragging a person behind him by the ankle. The person seemed to not be giving much struggle, despite the way his head bounced on each step when descending the porch. Zoro continued to drag this person back to Spandam, and once they were across the street Sanji saw how young the person, this kid, was.

Once on Spandam's lawn, Zoro grabbed the kid by the shoulder and picked up him, ruthlessly shaking him as he did. The kid groaned and blearily opened his eyes. After brushing his shaggy black hair from his face, the kid noticed where he was and busted out in unrestrained laughter. The sound was so giddy and cheerful that Sanji had a hard time restraining his own snicker, but Zoro's frown only deepened.

He shook the kid again, to try and indicate how serious he was, and while that succeeded in quieting the boy, it didn't come anywhere close to removing his wide smile.

"Luffy, did you T.P. Spandam's house?" Zoro demanded.

"Yeah, turned out great didn't it?" The boy, Luffy, chirped happily.

Spandam's pale face turned a light shade of red as he stared, jaw slacked, at the boy in front of him. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Spandam closed his mouth and curled his lips into a poorly suppressed sneer.

"Your Garp's kid aren't you?"

"Yep! He's my grand-dad!" He replied, seemingly unaware of how much shit he just gotten himself into.

"You mind telling me what the police chef's grandson is doing vandalizing my house!" Spandam roared, but the kid only picked his nose in response.

"Cuz you got rid of my hoop." He retorted, removing his pinky from his nose and flicking the booger aside. He fixed Spandam with a blank stare, as if the reason should be obvious and the fact that he had to explain it made Spandam the biggest moron on the planet.

"Your _hoop_?" Spandam clarified.

"Yeah, you my driveway basketball net. You said it was unsightly, so I had to get rid of it. Now your house is unsightly so you have to get rid of it!" Luffy explained with a triumphant grin.

"Great, now that that's settled, I'm gonna sleep." Zoro flatly announced and released his hold on Luffy's shoulder. He trudged across Spandam's immaculate lawn, back to his own house, while Spandam fixed a cheated sort of glare at his back, as if he couldn't believe Zoro was leaving after dumping this information on him. But the stare was short lived and Spandam quickly brought his furious attention back to Luffy, who was currently staring at the toilet paper around him with a blank look.

"I think I could've used more," Sanji barely heard him muse aloud.

"I doubt that, since you'll be the one cleaning all of this up." Spandam snarled, crossing his thin arms over his chest.

"Can't, I have school." Luffy replied, crossing his own thin arms loosely across his chest in a posture that was more relaxed than Spandam's purposefully imposing stance. And yet, somehow, the high school boy came across as more threatening. Maybe it was the blank stare he gave Spandam, or perhaps the lackadaisical tone of his voice, like everything he said wasn't a threat or argument but a fact that couldn't be disputed.

"Then you'd better get to work." Spandam hissed. "Or you will lose access to all community amenities."

"Lose access to what?"

"The pool, the clubhouse, the fitness center, everything communal."

"Fine," Luffy relented, speaking in a shockingly low and hollow voice as he bowed his head.

Without another word, Spandam entered his home and Luffy –in a forlorn manner akin to an artist burning his own masterpiece- begin to take down the toilet paper. Sanji, after sending a quick glance to Spandam's door, crossed the space between him and the kid in several long strides. The boy looked up and watched his approach with a thin frown and sad eyes.

"Nice job," Sanji murmured, instantly turning the kid's sour look into one of unadulterated joy. The smile that stretched across his face was the widest Sanji had ever seen and may've triggered a slight upturn of his own mouth. "I'm curious, though, why toilet paper?"

"I wanted to egg his house, but I didn't have enough. And when I went to Zoro's to ask for some, he said he was out and gave me toilet paper instead."

"Hm," Sanji replied and considered the last time his restaurant had gotten eggs. It had been almost a week, which meant a new shipment today or tomorrow, which meant all current eggs needed to be disposed of to ensure freshness, and Sanji certainly hated to see food go to waste.

"Come to my house tonight at 2 and I can get you some eggs, that is, if you're still interested in-"

"Hell yeah! That sounds awesome!" Luffy roared practically wrapping his arms and legs around Sanji in a massive hug.

"Hey, keep quiet." Sanji snapped, shrugging the sudden and unwelcomed contact off. He glanced back at Spandam's house but saw no signs that the bastard had heard anything. "The supplies come with one condition, alright?"

He waited for Luffy to nod his head –which he did quickly and eagerly- before he continued. "You didn't hear anything from me."

* * *

 **A/N:** Alright, gather around for excuses central! Once I hit April I entered exam season, so I tried my best to stay away from writing and reading fanfiction, watching anime, generally anything that would distract me from studying and testing for my exams. Once I hit May, I had to travel from Uni to back home, attend my brother's graduation at Westpoint (9 hour drive to his graduation by the way, not as fun as 9 hour Trans-Atlantic flights), and get re-certified for my summer job.

 **AND SO** , due to my extreme lack of posting (drumroll pleas- aw wait no one is as psyche about this as me...alright cut the drumroll already) I shall post something every day for the next week. It may not be stuff for this particular story, and it may not even be One Piece. (APH anyone?) But it shall be content!

Thus, I hope everyone has enjoyed April/May and that you all will enjoy the upcoming month of June. Feel free to comment -about this chapter or anything else, I like to talk- and you'll be hearing from me again real soon.

Tschüss~


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